


Looking Up

by tacotits



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: I mean RIVALRY, M/M, and of course eventual gay, and punches from Shingen, because boy do I love that child, follows him from being a bab all the way up to the Siege of Osaka, however I wrote this waaay back in 2014 so no Benmaru, lots of Sasuke and Yukimura bonding though, yukimura-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8587870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacotits/pseuds/tacotits
Summary: From the time he was little, Yukimura found himself looking up.  There was so much growing to do, so much to compare himself to, but no matter how high he climbed, the sky still seemed so far off.  A coming of age story written to partially satisfy my need to make sense of the Basara canon within actual history. Eventual DateSana. For senbasajubilee [Reposted from my Tumblr]





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I wrote this back in 2014 before Sanada Yukimura Den had even been announced, so Nobuyuki and Masayuki are essentially my own original characters. The story, likewise, mixes the pre-Den Basara canon with history, and ends up as mostly my own creation. This all being said, it should still be pretty easy to follow, so enjoy!

Being born in someone's shadow is a hard thing, because as long as he had ever known, Yukimura had been looking up. 

And for a child, this was not a bad thing, because there was always a back to gaze upon. It was a protector and a sense of ease; that presence was always about no matter what he did. When he slipped, a firm hand pulled him back on his feet. When he wavered, there was a smile and an encouraging word to tell him to keep trying. When he cried, there was firm shake on the shoulder and a reminder him that he was a man. And when he laughed, there was a voice that would laugh with him. 

And to a child, the unchanging is reaffirming--no matter how cold the wind may blow, a wall is there to block it. But just as a wall protects, it also hampers, blocking both wind and progress. 

It came not from outside, but from within. The wall had not changed in his eyes, but he had, and he was no longer a child content to play at its base, but a young adult ready to scale the heights. But no matter how far he climbed, the wall seemed insurmountable. His neck hurt so much from looking up that he could not see how far he had come with his own power.

"Benmaru, you have done well to master the technique at such a young age."

The reply was short, but dripping with young agony: "Nobuyuki mastered it when he was years younger than I."

He fled his father's presence then, water racing down his cheeks at the same speed at which his bare feet hit the wood floor. The comparison with his brother was never an intentional thing on his parents' part. Their first son was exceptionally talented, and they were understandably proud; he had grown quickly into a strong and intelligent warrior and they talked about him frequently. The second son was not neglected by any means, but everyone failed to realize he had ears. He was surrounded by his brother's accomplishments, which had one by one piled up around him until there was no sky, but only Nobuyuki. And try as he might, the young Yukimura could not make himself tower to the same heights.

The house complex was not too big and even Yukimura's tiny legs could make it from the center to the entrance way in less than a few minutes. Even as the wood gave way to stone and then dirt, the young one was undeterred, and practically flew outdoors, fresh tears on his cheeks as the mid spring sun stung his eyes. Despite his best efforts, his sobbing gasps were quite audible as his feet carried him across the grounds and past smiling servants who were quite accustomed to the emotional second son. He was still a child in their eyes after all.

Bare feet brought him to the barn where the straw and hay were kept, and he wasted no time in climbing to the top of the hay pile. It was comfortable, if a bit itchy, and far away from the eyes of others. He cried himself out. It was not that he wasn't good enough for the people around him.

It was that he wasn't good enough for himself.

As he passed through the threshold of childhood, Yukimura began to see his brother as less of a person and more of a force to judge himself against. Later, he would realize that he had never seen Nobuyuki as a human until he was much much older. But for those childhood years, the other was a ruler to measure himself against.

*

“You expose yourself.”

Nobuyuki’s words were just as direct as the swing of his sword, but unlike steel, Yukimura couldn’t block them with his spears. Though a bit self-absorbed, the older of the two brothers could not be described as callous; he showed interest in the younger’s training when he had the time. These training sessions typically involved him beating his brother smoothly and mercilessly, but in a time where many siblings killed each other without remorse, Nobuyuki was praised for the care with which he showed his brother. 

The strikes came with advice on the side and though the smaller was supposed to be learning how to fight, it was his brother’s voice that he remembered.

“Your emotions leave you wide open, Benmaru. I can read your face and see your anger and your petty sadness; it is as if you have come to the battle without a weapon.” Each line sliced through the air, directed by Nobuyuki’s composed voice. “You need to learn to make your face clear. You need to learn to not let your feelings distract you.”

Gritting his teeth, Yukimura brought his spears together with all his might, just barely managing to catch his brother’s single blade between the two, locking it there. A grin split his lips, but Nobuyuki’s expression did not change. With apparently no effort at all he wrenched his blade upwards, dislodging the spears through strength alone, and sending Yukimura stumbling backwards. His arms had been thrown to either side of his body and steel hovered just barely away from his neck.

“Put that energy of yours to better use.”

But the young tiger was already crying.

*

"Go away, Sasuke."

"If you don't want me to find you, Danna, you need to pick a new place to pout."

Neither needed to point out that at sixteen years old, Yukimura shouldn't be running off crying every time he lost a fight to his brother. They both knew that should have stopped long before he shed the name Benmaru. Because even as he grew--as a man and as a warrior--Nobuyuki grew as well, and Yukimura had no way of catching up to him. The other would always be taller. But Yukimura kept trying. He had to.

The ninja sighed and ruffled the other’s hair, both of them being well aware that no matter what the young samurai said, his presence was always a comforting one. 

*

The ninja’s service had been purchased by the Sanada Clan soon after he finished his “training,” and Benmaru had been his first and only task. Initially he had worn resentment like a shroud. It was obvious that they were underestimating him due to his age; make a brat guard a brat. He would sit in the darkness watching the child sleep with narrowed eyes. Surely there were better things for him to do! He was not just the top ninja in his age group, he was the top ninja in his “clan”—a genius of sorts. But here he was watching a child cry. He was not a babysitter, he was a killer.

But Benmaru was the one who made him see himself as a human for the first time.

He didn’t have a given name initially—though only lords of important lineage had family names, he had always thought of “Sarutobi” as his family name, given his origins. Besides, it seemed fitting that a ninja should not have a given name, so that there was nothing to get attached to. But Benmaru had not been accepting of this.

“You only have one name?” And of course, to the son of a samurai, destined to have many different names over the course of his life, the concept must have been strange. But no matter how many times Sarutobi (irritably) explained it to him, the child wouldn’t let the subject go. “We will find the perfect name for you, worry not!”  
Like hell was he going to worry.

But the more time passed the more Sarutobi began to realize just why he had been assigned to protect the boy. 

Assassins were frequent, which didn’t surprise him that much, but still disappointed him; he had yet to meet one that he couldn’t dispatch without sweating. But more than that, Benmaru himself seemed to be far too exceptional at getting into trouble. It was almost a miracle that the child hadn’t gotten himself killed before Sarutobi had been taken on. Though he healed quickly (even broken bones didn’t seem to stop him and he rarely ever scarred regardless of the injury), the child seemed to be constantly in some trouble or another. One time he fell down a waterfall. Another time, he somehow managed to get himself in a fight with a wolf pack. There was also the time he tried to train in a wildfire. It was ridiculous, because the child was a rule follower. It was not as if he defied his parents and went gallivanting about in the dark, or trekked far from the castle, or tried to pick fights. He rose early, practiced hard, studied intently, and listened to everything his parents and instructors told him. This child was a goody two shoes. But he was also a goody two shoes who somehow landed himself in trouble every other day. It was quite vexing to Sarutobi, but made him feel like his skills were being a bit better utilized.

Of course the child didn’t drop his intention of making a given name for the ninja either.

Several names were suggested, but Benmaru hadn't liked any of them enough himself to use them more than once. After half a year or so of trying, the attempts became less frequent and it seemed as though he had given up on it at last. But then there was the wildfire incident.

His brother was quite adept at using flames already, and though Benmaru had only been using real spears for a year or so (they were small enough to allow even a child to wield them), he was determined to learn to use the element his family was famous for. But of course the child had been forbidden from using fire to train with, and the not yet nine year old was not about to go against his parents’ wishes. He would learn to use flames though, this he promised himself with clenched fists.

His chance didn't come until the heat waves hit in mid-August though, and a carelessly attended campfire spread through the dry undergrowth of the forests to the south. It was simple enough to ask his parents' permission to go out, and of course they consented on the condition that the young lord took his ninja caretaker along, which was only to be expected at this point. And so with no delay, Benmaru was out the gates, urging his horse into a fast trot, grinning at the weight of his spears on his back as a smoke column reflected in his eyes. Sarutobi flowed through the trees, having never needed a horse for travel, but was surprised when his "lord" stopped some distance from the fire and asked him to stay with his roan gelding. He accepted silently and watched the child practically run towards the fire giddily.

Fire moves quickly and without precision or warning, and though Benmaru had spent many hours watching his brother train, he was not ready for the strength of an inferno. Unfortunately, his elation distracted him initially, as he managed to get some of the nearby flames to hover at the points of his spears, not extinguishing even as he went about several different strikes and jabs. He had done it! He would be just as good as his brother--he would show him that they could stand side by side and be equals. Yellow and orange shone on his grinning teeth.

He didn't see how close the fire had gotten until it was all around him. Terror widened his eyes, but he did not panic, moving his spears steadily and with purpose. If he could bring the flames to his steel, he could direct them away as well. With this thought in mind, he brought his right spear over his head before slashing down in a clean arc. This would yield a path for him.

But the flames only grew in response, almost as if he had increased their fervor with his movement.

When a second try yielded the same result, the terror set in.

He was trapped.

The flames were growing steadily and in a horrified second he realized that the heat would kill him before the flames ever touched him. His skin was already burning and he could feel his clothes shriveling. He would be cooked alive.

And that's when he screamed.

But it wasn't just a scream, it was a cry for help. He knew that his ninja was nearby. He knew that he was reliable. And though his pride impressive, he would not let himself die here.

"SARUTOBI!" The cry was audible even over the roar of the flames. "SARUTOBI, PLEASE SAVE ME."

There was no response.

But Benmaru kept his eyes towards the tops of the trees, where the flames had barely reached. He knew that the ninja would come from as close to the sky as possible. He knew that the shinobi would come for him. Still clutching his spears tightly, he screamed again as the heat became unbearable.  
But he did not stop looking up. And he was not disappointed.

*

Later, after he was safely bandaged and had been properly yelled at by his parents, he called Sarutobi to him. The ninja of course appeared in front of him suddenly, causing the boy to jump slightly. All surprise faded after a moment though, and he was all smiles.

"I determined a proper name for you." The ninja merely kept looking at him and Benmaru pulled out a bit of calligraphy that Sarutobi had witnessed him slaving over earlier, despite being bedridden. The characters were a bit sloppy even though it was obvious he had practiced many, many times. "Sasuke," he pointed with his finger as he read the characters for "help" and "assist." "Because you saved me."

TBC...


	2. Part 2

“Look Danna, I think you need to get out for a bit.” The ninja was lounging next to his lord at the latter’s favorite dango shop, which had been suggested after yet another defeat at his brother’s hand, despite all of Yukimura’s hours of training. “We could take a week and go on a trip through the mountains, you could get some fresh air and train—evaporate some waterfalls with that new fire technique of yours or something. I’m sure your parents and instructors would have no problem with it; you are rightfully a man after all. Plus, I’m with you!” He added the last part with a cheeky grin which was becoming more and more characteristic of him over the past few years. It was an improvement from the sulky expressions he had sported in the past, and Yukimura was grateful for the change, even if he did tease him about having become more “true to his namesake.”

The younger of the two pouted a bit before replying around bites of dango. “I was so certain that I would finally be able to overcome my brother though. Certainly I just need to train harder.”

A sigh before the response came. “I think it’s the obvious—you need to switch up your training and try something different.” The two bantered back and forth for a bit but eventually the samurai consented. Consent and preparation were both easy enough, and the next day the two set out in the early morning, through the mountains and to the southwest. 

The trip was everything that Sasuke imagined it to be—Yukimura galloping wildly through the forest and alerting everyone around of their presence, meals composed mostly of game that Sasuke caught, early morning sparring sessions, and late nights of fire exercises in the dark. With each day, he could see his lord relaxing more, like he was slowly shedding the weight off his shoulders. The smiles came more frequently and the laughter more easily. He knew the pressure the other felt—the desperate wish to be equal to the one he was forever comparing himself to. But Sasuke so much wanted the young lord to see that he was already so much as he was. Yes, there was more to learn and still growing to do, but he didn’t need to compare himself to his older brother. He was good enough as just Yukimura.

*

They didn't even see smoke rising from the castle--the fires had burned themselves out long before the two arrived within spying distance. Having taken the long way along the river from the south, it took them longer to see the castle than if they had come through the mountains to the west, even if it was at a bit higher elevation than the surrounding village. But all that greeted them was a black husk. Yukimura urged his mount into a gallop as soon as it was apparent that something was wrong and Sasuke raced beside him. He knew what had happened long before they arrived, but didn't have the heart to tell Yukimura who was desperately shouting the names of his parents, instructors, and brother.   
Practically leaping from his horse as they reached the charred gateway, Yukimura raced through the compound in a flurry. Sasuke didn’t have the heart to watch him, but even as he carefully inspected the wrecked castle for any enemies that might remain, he couldn’t tune out the sound of his lord’s screams.

He didn’t know how long it took them to reconvene at the gate, but it was as if several more years weighed Yukimura down. He was covered in soot and grime, an obvious sign that he had tried to dig through the rubble pile that had once been the main keep. His eyes were red, but the tears didn’t seem to stop falling. It was obvious that he hadn’t even tried to wipe them away from the wet patches on the front of his haori. Yukimura’s eyes were blank and staring upwards, and his ninja knew that the young man could not see or hear what was going on around him anymore. The warrior’s reaction was killing him more than the carnage ever could.

“DANNA,” it took a few shouts and physically shaking his shoulders to get the other to notice his presence. “Danna, there are soldiers moving in from the west. We need to get moving or—“

But the sound of cavalry coming to a stop outside the gate cut him off and he turned around quickly, placing himself between his lord and the approaching soldiers. But the banners that greeted them caught them both off guard.

The red flag of the Tiger of Kai flew proudly from within the soldiers ranks, and the man himself dismounted his steed to stand within the gates. Both knew this man—Takeda Shingen of Kai, and also the lord whom the Sanada clan devoted their allegiance to.

*

The light of early afternoon shone through the cracks in the fusuma, but still, Yukimura did not stir from his futon. He did not know how many days had passed since Takeda and his men had helped them dig his parents headless corpses from the wreckage, and burn them properly. When he had received word of the attack on the Sanada stronghold, Takeda had been engaged in battle, thus why he too had arrived too late. Of course he took the two wretched remnants back to Kai with his men, but this did not spell peace for Yukimura, but rather pronounced the absence.

As a shinobi, Sasuke was to follow his lord's orders. And while those had been Yukimura's father up to this point, the control now transferred to the Takeda, and Shigen had better tasks for the highly skilled ninja than babysitting a grieving boy. Enemy soldiers had taken his family and his home and this new lord took his best friend.

Yukimura was completely alone.

He stagnated, spending his days in Kai staring off in no particular direction at all, rarely leaving the room he had been given and barely touching he food that was brought to him. Every morning without fail, Takeda Shingen came in person to invite the orphan to come train him with him. And every morning, Yukimura, still in bed, had simply turned his head away. "My apologies."

But that all ended today.

The doors were wrenched open, and sun came pouring in like a torrent of water. Yukimura thought he would drown.

"YUKIMURA!" The voice bellowed like a war horn, and pounded in from all sides. But even in the pain and the movement, the boy did not move. His name was called once more and when no response was given, the man took action. Large hands scooped him up, and threw him out of the room and into the courtyard outside, futon and all.

Years of training kicked in, and Yukimura stumbled upwards, not fazed by the ground under his bare feet. The sudden absence of sunlight made him look up, and there, towering over him, was Tadeka Shingen in full armor. His arms were crossed and he looked down at the remnant with a scowl so deep it put the makeup of Kabuki actors to shame. 

"YUKIMURA," the voice was just as heavy as the presence. "YOU WILL FIGHT ME."

But the presence and the words deflated on the boy, who dropped his fighting stance. Perhaps a moment too soon because a fist impacted with his face a moment later. His body hurled across the courtyard and skidded to a haul in the dirt. Hesitantly, the once-warrior stood, but he did not balance his weight between his feet or hold his arms up in front of him. Two empty eyes met two furious ones but it was as if he was looking straight through the other.

“What reason do I have to fight?”

The next punch threw him against the back wall of the compound, and though something certainly snapped, he couldn’t feel anything but the weight in his chest.

“YUKIMURA. WHY ARE YOU A WARRIOR?”

His eyes glanced down at his hands, still callused from spear practice. In his mind, he could see his brother training, each strike as effortless and efficient as the last. He saw his brother’s sword pointed directly at him. He saw his brother’s back as he turned to walk away.

Had it all been because of him?

“It has disappeared…” And perhaps he did not realize it at that moment, but it was not his brother he was referring to, but the force he had spent his entire life measuring himself against.

He hit the wall again.

“YUKIMURA, WHY DO YOU FIGHT?”

And the tears came then, somehow streaming down his face far more violently than they had that day. His hands curled into fists and his own voice choked in his throat. They were gone. They were gone. They were gone. His brother was gone. His reason to fight was gone. He would never overcome him now no matter what he did. He would never walk as an equal next to the one he had spent his life idolizing. His purpose was gone. 

The tears kept coming but there was new life in his eyes. His face was scarred with emotion. Words ripped themselves from his throat and he was shouting.

“WHAT REASON DO I HAVE TO FIGHT?” 

Another fist and another dent in the wall, but Yukimura wasn’t even aware that the flesh around his right eye was swelling and purple. His own hands were up and he was returning punches.

“I HAVE NO REASON ANYMORE.” 

His fist met Shigen’s this time, and something definitely cracked in his arm, but he kept going. The fists were flying faster on both sides now and Yukimura had given up on words. The agony was ripped from his body in the form of shouting and the tears blinded him. Yukimura had been fragmented. He was a castle that’s base had been ripped out from under it, leaving the stones with no choice but to clatter to the ground and scatter far away. But with each punch, a stone was moved back in place. He could feel his body again. He could feel the hot tears on his cheeks and the ache in his limbs. His knuckles were raw and bleeding and he /knew it/. He knew that he was breathing.

Another punch sent him back to the dirt and Yukimura knew that he could not get up this time. 

The strongest man in Kai and stood over him once more, but this time he extended not a fist but a hand.

And Yukimura was looking up again.

* 

The next morning, Shingen was again at Yukimura's door, and this time he joined him without question. The next morning, he was ready when the Lord of Kai arrived, and the next, he was waiting for him outside his quarters in full armor. He started eating again, and began training with his spears during the days. It was as if each sparring session breathed life back into him. 

But Shingen's verbal assaults did not stop even with Yukimura's returned vigor. They were different each time though, as if the man was slowly working through all of the rooms in the boy's broken castle and repairing them one by one.

"Why do you hide your smiles?"

The Sanada blocked a strike and shot his new master a confused look. "This Yukimura must gravely apologize for not catching your meaning." He followed with a kick of his own.  
The leg was caught and he was thrown spinning backwards. 

"YOU HIDE YOUR EMOTIONS."

As had become usual in these moments, Yukimura responded with his own shout: "I CANNOT COMPREHEND YOUR WORDS, OYAKATTA-SAMA."

More fists flew as the shouting got louder.

"YUKIMURA, YOUR STRENGTH LIES IN THE DEEPNESS OF YOUR FEELINGS, YET YOU HIDE THEM AS THOUGH THEY ARE WORTHLESS." The words left deeper impressions than the punches did. But no single talk could undo years of practice, so Yukimura begged for clarification once more.

"USE YOUR FEELINGS AS YOUR FISTS, YUKIMURA."

This punch sent him flying further than usual, but when he stood up this time, he was smiling.

*

"Your hair is getting long, Danna. Want me to cut it for you?"

It had admittedly been almost a week since Sasuke had seen the young tiger (things were particularly busy in Kai these days and the Uesugi had a new ninja for him to be wary of), but still he popped into Yukimura's training session unannounced like they had been talking a few minutes before. The young warrior was so focused on honing a particular strike that it was easy to get behind him and toy with the small tuft of hair which was held back loosely with some scrap twine. 

"Sasuke, welcome back!" 

Yukimura had long since stopped jumping when his ninja companion showed up out of the blue, even though Sasuke knew that he had caught the other unaware. Part of him want to chalk it up to an endearing trait, but the rest of him was worried that the idiot's senses were so dull that he would get himself killed. 

Yukimura turned around to greet Sasuke with a bright (if sweaty) grin and a bit of a bounce. He inquired about Sasuke's travels and they chatted a bit about the new strike he was developing before the ninja paused to ruffle his hair appreciatively. It really had been too long. This of course brought up the hair again, and Yukimura pulled back before Sasuke could materialize a kunai.

"I am growing it out."

The simple answer lifted two thin red eyebrows as the shinobi recalled a smaller tiger who begged Sasuke to cut his hair when it had only grown part of the way down his neck.

"You can't be trying to copy the look of Oyakatta-Sama's head piece, can you?" He couldn't hide the disbelief in his voice--it was a silly idea but the first that came to mind. And it earned him a snort from Yukimura. It was unusual for the tiger to have the upper hand in their conversations, and or only further confused his companion, who watched the smile fade from his lord's face. Slowly but purposefully, the warrior ran his fingers through the tiny tail of hair and tugged on it a bit before meeting Sasuke's eyes once more.

"I simply wanted to become my own person."

And that was all it took for everything to click for Sasuke. Anyone who served in the Sanada household would be able to recall how short Nobuyuki kept his hair. 

The next time he returned from a mission, be brought Yukimura a few hair ties and a comb.

TBC...


	3. Part 3

In less than a year, Yukimura had gone from a silent mess to his lord’s best warrior and finally the most trusted general. Of course, he still had much to learn and growing to do in many ways, but Sasuke could say with certainty that he had overcome the angry teen that couldn’t get out of his brother’s shadow. If anything, he had taken his brother into him. When requesting the new armor that came with his role as a general, the young warrior had surprised everyone by asking for the red his family was known for and the six coin crest instead of Shingen’s four diamonds. Sasuke knew that the color and placement of the six rings wasn’t the same as those on Nobuyuki’s through mere coincidence. 

But the similarities ended there. Whereas Nobuyuki’s armor was streamlined and practical, Yukimura’s was almost flashy in comparison. The lack of armor on his chest almost screamed “I am untouchable!” but Sasuke knew that the six coins around his neck told a different story.

Still, the warrior had much to experience before he died and it seemed like rivalry was one of them.

If Sasuke didn’t know better, he would think that his young lord had fallen in love.

Because as soon as the fire and lightning cleared from the sky and the warriors from Oshu had made their retreat, it was Date Masamune this, Date Masamune that. The cub practically breathed Date Masamune. But Sasuke had seen this kind of obsession in his lord once before, and it worried him to see it again. When would he stop seeing his goals as unobtainable?

“Say Danna.” The shinobi approached him after his morning training once, couching next to where the young man stretched out his taxed limbs. “It keeps bothering me, but does the young Date lord remind you of anyone?” The brunette warrior’s eyes met furiously, bringing wrinkles all the way to his nose as he thought vigorously for a moment before responding.

“I cannot think of anyone with Masamune-Dono’s likeness.”

Sasuke kept his sigh internal, and pushed his thick lord a bit harder. “He makes me think of Nobuyuki no Danna for some reason.” Honestly, there was no likeness between their appearance or fighting style, but their effect on Yukimura was a different matter.

At the mention of his brother’s name, the tiger cub froze mid-stretch and went silent. He mumbled something about the two being quite different as a sort of response to Sasuke, but otherwise kept his options to himself. The Shadow of Kai knew that he had hit his mark though.

*

There was no image deeper burned into Sanada Yukimura’s mind than that of his older brother’s back. It always stood as an unobtainable goal for even running, he could not match his brother’s stride—even as he grew, that head towered over him. But he had died.

And Yukimura had not.

And while the rambunctious cub had grown and improved, he no longer had a living breathing body to measure his skills against. His ruler was frozen in time. He couldn’t see the new heights he had come to. His perspective had changed but he was still looking up at an unmoving frame. And somewhere along the line, he had found a person to put there as a place holder.

When the dragon had walked away from their clash of lightning and fire, Yukimura had not seen a blue back covered in lightning, but rather a back bearing six yellow coins.  
The cub found himself facing his new rival on the battlefield not long after their first encounter, but the he moved differently this time. His brother affixed in his mind, he parried thrusts and caught blows. But the six swords came out and he couldn’t keep his brother’s smooth fighting in his mind despite his best effort. When he met those claws, he was not blocking, because he could feel electricity shoot down his spears. Each attack opened him to the very core. And Masamune was there, igniting something in his chest that he didn’t know could burn. 

There may still be heights to be scaled and growing to be done, but as he met Date Masamune fully, he realized that he was here. He had made it to the sky that had felt so distant. He was still looking up, but he could now look down too.

*

If anyone had asked him about it, he would admit that he hadn't thought about Date Masamune as a partner or a lover or anything of the sort at first. They were rivals, and to the young cub, it only seemed natural that all of his thoughts should be taken up by the other--he went to sleep wondering when they would next fight; he trained in the morning plotting of how the other would respond to his attacks; he ate thinking of the energy needed to face the other.

He hadn't considered the possibility of anything else until they were alone in the woods, "to settle things," and instead of delivering a blow, the other had grabbed his lapels and pulled him into a rough kiss.

And then Yukimura wanted everything.

Suddenly he realized that there was more than just fighting to feel, and if it was Masamune, he wanted it. And he wanted it desperately. It was if there had been no room in his mind previously to comprehend such thoughts. Or rather that his perception of love then took an entirely different form from what he was experiencing with Masamune. When Maeda Keiji had sprouted tales of love Yukimura could think only of brothels and coerced maidens. There was no equality. There was no fight. But Masamune's kisses struck him like lightning and he knew he was doing the same with his flames.

He may have been young and inexperienced, but this was still a battlefield he could face his rival on. 

And he wanted to learn.

When they woke up the next morning, curled up next to each other in an abandoned outpost, the morning light leaked through a crack in the ceiling and traced the pale scars on Date Masamune's skin. The cub had never been one for aesthetics, but his sleeping lover in the morning light was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life. And when he roused the other with soft kisses, he knew that they had done something they would never be able to undo. The dragon had him in his claws now, but his own claws were just as tightly wrapped around the dragon too.

*

Sasuke had only raised as eyebrow when he returned covered in noticeable bruises, many of which had not come from fighting. "Looks like you haven't settled your rivalry just yet, Danna."

"We shall remain rivals until the end of time!" The reply came with a rambunctious grin and Yukimura knew he was speaking the truth. And it was a truth that remained so, despite the years and the trials the two faced apart and together. Because every time Yukimura looked up, Masamune was right there to meet him.

*

The sun had long since sunk low in the sky and taken the light with it in a grand finale of red and oranges visible even through the dust and canon smoke. But even without the light, Sanada Yukimura still found a glimmer in that single eye--the eye of Date Masamune. 

"Sanada," he greeted roughly, as if not needing to comment on how they had both wound up in this stretch of woods not too far from the castle and the battlefield. Even with all his defenses up and the armor still shielding him, the Western general could see the slight limp, since he was the one who had delivered the blow. 

"Date Masamune," he replied, head still thick with the shouts and the heat of the day. But then, his mind cleared and he saw his rival in a different light. A smile reached his lips. "Masamune-Dono."

And that was all the permission the other needed to pull him into a tight embrace. Their mouths met almost as smoothly as their bodies, and even if it had been too long, they instantly fit back together like puzzle pieces. But just as their mouths moved, so did their hands, hunting for wounds they knew had been inflicted earlier. But the two were not jolted by the pain they had caused each other, but instead drawn closer. Each kiss tried to make up for an ache. Because in the end, their sides weren't that different after all.

"It warms my heart that fate would choose to cross our paths like this, for I had very much desired to see you one last time." The words were not quite whispered, but the weight of them pulled them down to the ground and they fell past the dragon's ears like stones. He was tugging the other in tighter before he even realized it.

"Thinking that someone else will end you beside me, Sanada?" His own words were rough, trying and failing to hide emotion.

"You know as well as I do Masamune-dono, that this is a battle the West cannot win. We have been stripped of our armor and weapons and expected to fight against a larger opponent. There is no weakness in these soldiers, save for a lack of someplace safe to sleep at night. We cannot use our canons if there is no place to stand them," he said it with some bitterness, for the tiger had always been one who wished for a fair fight. To see the scales tipped so obviously clenched his heart and made that fire burn with more anger than passion. But there was acceptance there too.

This, like so many other things, was unchangeable.

The Eastern General pulled back so he could see the other's face clearly, but when he met those eyes, the words he meant to say were forced back down. There was no stopping the tiger. So he swallowed and tried something else: "You're still my goal, Sanada, perhaps now more than ever before. If there is any time to end this between us then--"

But Yukimura cut him short with a quick kiss and a smile that was more his eyes than his mouth. "You are not meant to die here, Date Masamune. Your name is one that will lead the new age, with Ieyasu-Dono. You still have a home to protect, people who need you."

Whatever response Masamune had planned would never be heard because a third voice cut in just then: "He's not the only one, you know, General."

Neither warrior was much fazed by the arrival of the ninja, and they only parted slightly to look at him more clearly.

"Sarutobi."

"Dokuganryu no Danna."

Their greetings were curt but familiar, the two having long ago established a small bit of mutual respect. Yukimura just smiled, though the other two could easily see the shift in his manner from relaxed lover to alert general.

"Do you come bringing news, Sasuke?"

"If I did, you would be too far away to be much help," he answered with a bit of a sigh. But the shinobi was well aware of what this space meant to his lord and closest friend, so he kept his reprimands short. "Who knows what kind of ruckus the troops would kick up if your absence were discovered."

"Understood, Sasuke, I will return to my post with due haste. I must ask you to go ahead of me, though." His intentions were clear enough and Sasuke sighed again before nodding. He didn't go before he had fixed the dragon with a look which they both understood.

Don't let him die.

When the third party had left, the two returned to their kissing, though Masamune with more possessive kisses and Yukimura with more lingering ones. As they slowed, the general in red pushed his face into the softness between his lover's chin and neck and let a breath escape his lips audibly.

"Selfish though it may be, it is this Yukimura's greatest wish to never be parted from you, Masamune-dono."

The other held him tighter.

"You won't be."

* 

He had known the moment that Sasuke had fallen--this day was their end. He should have known from the wound at his side and the break in his arm--they would not take Tokugawa's head today. He could blame it on the sheer number of enemy troops or lack of castle walls behind them. He wanted to blame it on the soul that burned inside his body. Surely he could have shone brighter. Surely he could have pushed harder. Sanadas won against the odds, didn’t they? But there was a part of him that knew the truth.

This was not a fight the West was meant to win.

And so when they finally came to rest, him and the few remaining soldiers in red armor, he knew he could not curse their spirits. He would have had no regrets if it weren't for the Matsudaira flags he saw through the mist and the smoke.

You must forgive me, Masamune-dono.

A light drizzle wafted down despite the heat, cooling the battlefield, but not the hearts of the Eastern soldiers. They surrounded the remnants of those who had given their leader so much trouble the day previous. And a man whose name would never be remembered by history stepped forward with his sword raised, ready to take the head of one of the most respected generals in the Western Army.

The last thing Sanada Yukimura saw was the grey sky.

*

*

*

It was a surprise to no one that despite the new year having started only a few weeks ago, the Baseball Team and the Soccer Team were already fighting over the sports field. In this age of peace and prosperity, it seemed silly both that the school only had one sport field and also that the competing groups could not find a non-violent way to reach an agreement. But to the youths who had memories of cold steel and thick blood, baseball bats and soccer balls were a thing of peace. Because no matter how many centuries had passed, they found themselves drawn to each other.

And as a soccer ball flew through the air, Sanada Yukimura found himself looking up once more. 

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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